


Little Brother

by jeck



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy had a point to make … now if only he could remember what it was.</p><p>Author's Notes: Ficlet for my bb, dramady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dramady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/gifts).



> This happens after the deleted scene in Boondock Saints where Ma calls the boys. See it here: <http://youtu.be/XwuNzAVUtUo>

  
This wasn't supposed to happen.

All Murphy wanted to do was prove a point. All Murphy did was look at Connor and the arse got suddenly defensive talking about how he'd just put ice on his dick.

Yeah. Right.

But Murphy new better, eh? So, just to prove that he _was_ the _bigger_ man here, he tripped Connor with a hand to his ankle just as he walked past him while he still lay down on the floor.

It was an accident. He was sure of it. Connor fell over him and then they were suddenly a tangle of arms and legs. Both of them throwing punches and insults, curses and kicks.

"Just lie still and you'll see," Murphy said in a panted brogue. "I'm bigger than you are."

"Fuck you!" Connor punched his shoulder.

"Ow! Fucker!"

And that did it. They started to roll around on the floor again with Connor getting the better of him this time. He'd heave a growl and fight back and as much as Murph would like to think that they were always on an even keel when they fight -- he knew better.

He'd always give in.

But, nah. It wasn't going to happen this time. Connor always was the bossier one. It was subtle when Connor acted like he was the older of them both - like he was acting now - pushing and manhandling Murphy like he was a rag doll. Most wouldn't be able to tell, but Murphy could. He'd lived with the bastard for 27 fuckin' years for Christ's sake!

There weren't any more surprises.

Well, except this.

Murphy did it. Well, fuck him, he did. Panting he straddled Connor's thighs, hands pinned down on the floor with both of their chests heaving, faces close together that they were sharing what little air was there between them.

"Gotcha." Of course Murph had to smirk, pleased with himself, the mole on his cheek lifting as his lips grew into a grin. Then he pressed forward, their cocks, now hard (How the _fuck_ did that always happen?!), straining side by side and rubbing together. Murphy couldn't help it. He started to rut, thrusting his hips.

"I win," he growled. "Say it."

"Fuck you!" Connor grunted back but he was writhing and pushing his erection against Murphy's.

"Fuck _you!_ " He liked how that felt - so much that Murphy's eyes slipped shut and he moaned breathy and low.

Sizing each other up was quickly forgotten.

Murphy wasn't sure who started it. By this time they were pressed together and _kissing_ and he never paid attention to who kissed whom, just that they were lip-locked and panting. Just how he liked it only usually _he_ was the one pinned down with Connor atop him.

What came next were roaming hands, moving lips. This part usually always ended up with someone's dick up someone's arse.

After a rigorous exchange of some choice and colorful words their Ma would disapprove of, after panted breaths and desperate thrusting, Murphy came deep inside Connor's heat, moaning out his brother's name.

By the time by they were done and covered with sweat and come did they stop to look at each other but nary a word exchanged.

But Murphy knew. He knew in his heart - and fuck if he'd say that out loud - that Connor loved him and he loved his brother back. But instead of mentioning any of that, he smirked again, opening his mouth.

"Shut it!" Connor glared up at him while giving a final upthrust, flagging dick pinned between them. He looked down, face serious for a brief moment and then ... the fucker laughed. "Get off me ... _little brother_."

"Little?!" Murph didn't expect that! Only because he stopped thinking about it as soon as their bodies touched. "You motherfucker! You wish!"

And then it started all over again. The wrestling. The kissing. The fucking - with Murphy losing to Connor, on hands and knees pushing back and _begging_.

It wasn't supposed to happen, eh? But it did. Just like the many other times it had happened before. Later that night, Murphy lay on his bed staring at the dark but cracked ceiling over his head, sure that this wasn't the end.

They never talk about it - and like always, neither of them ended up making any point because it _wasn't supposed to happen_ … even though it kind of always did.


End file.
